Awaiting Death
by ImaginationHasNoLimits
Summary: AU: Its 90 years into the future and the world is not what it used to be and not in the means of better. Valentine Morganstern and The Circle had turn the world into a dark place filled with rich masters and dying slaves. Clary is a slave in the house of Master Valentine and this is her parting. One-Shot


_Black. It was plain darkness. She couldn't move. Confusion was what passed through her mind. BAM! The sound of a gunshot broke through the quiet night. The sound of two bodies dropping onto the cold, hard pavement echoed through the alleyway.. Blood. That was all she could see. Her vision cleared and it was the dead body of a man and a woman in their 30's. A sudden wave of realization washed over her. She had seen these faces before. It was her parents. Cold, hard fear ran through her veins. No, no, no, NO! This couldn't be them. She screamed._

She woke up from her sleep gasping. It was 11 in the night. The images played over and over in her mind. Her mind was running haywire. Then she heard loud thumping vibrations. Right away, she recognized the sounds to be her master's footsteps. A sense of fear coursed through her veins. She knew what was to come.

"NUMBER 7! IS THAT YOU AGAIN? How many times have you woken me from my slumber with that horrible screeching of yours!? Do I need to punish you again for you to get it in your head and stay quiet like I told you to?!" roared Master Valentine. He was fuming mad. WHIP! CRACK! She could hear the sounds of the whip making contact with her pale, scarred skin. The burning running through her veins was excruciating. She could feel the leather from the whip slitting her skin open. Blood came pouring out of the multiple wounds being inflicted on her flesh. If she were to die in this moment, it would be from compulsive bleeding. She didn't flinch or tense up. She knew it would only result in more pain. Her master was merciless. She knew that this wasn't going to end soon. She didn't scream but the moment when her master drew his arm back and snapped the leather whip against her sensitive skin in a rapid motion, a scream erupted from her throat. Tears streamed down her face leaving behind a wet salty trail in it's wake. She silently cried through the beating that drove through the night. It was hours later until her master retired to his room for the morning.

She laid there in the corner of her room. Broken, bloodied, numb and abused. She made no effort to move and laid there motionless, her blood red hair sprawled out on the floor. She was used to it. Many nights where she woke up screaming occurred slaves were beat. If they caused trouble, they would be punished. Relapses of the nigh she was abandoned move before her eyes. It seemed like the world had gone dark and she was all alone. Just her against the world.

_Running, her ragged breath loud in the night. The streets were dark and the only the light poles situated on the sides of the road gave her a sense of direction. She heard the two seldom gunshots and collapsed onto the ground next to them with tears pouring out of her eyes. She could still remember hearing her mom's last words and holding her mom's cold, lifeless hand begging for her and dad to come back. She remembered being dragged away by the Enforcers, kicking and screaming, begging for them to let her stay._

_"Don't forget baby, no matter what happens... you're still my little Clare-bear. I'll be... waiting, " whispered her mom._

The dark memories of the slave market she was forcibly brought to made shivers run down her spine. The place was dark and grimy. Unsanitized. Expected of a sickening repugnant slave market. The slave market is where the middle class and poor are sold as slaves. Slaves range from both sexes and from the ages of 10 and above. The unsold slaves are kept in a dungeon like room with cots. Everybody's dressed in filthy rags with manacles bounding their wrists. They were led around in lines by Enforcers with whips to make sure everyone behaved. Some slaves are bought for more than to just manual labor which wasn't unusual. Some of the slaves could be suffering from an illness but, the heads of the slave market could care less. Of course, the ones that were sick were rarely bought and ended up dying and rotting in their cots.

The newborns and children under the ages of 10 are kept at The Institute from the moment they are born. The newborns are kept in a certain part of the giant building separate from the older newborns are kept in the district building until they reach the age of 5 and they are then transferred to the residential wing and attend obedience classes. Of course her having experienced this, she was used to the child abuse and so did many, many of the other slaves. They are taught how to serve their master and their place in the world. Which, is to slave over and serve the greedy fat cats. We are put in this position by the Circle. Decades ago, a group of the richest men in the world lead by the one and only Valentine Morganstern, decided to come together and take over the world. "Money is what makes the world go round," is their motto. But, this thought only makes people go crazy with hunger of power, greed and for a sense of control. They decided that the rich should run the world and should be put on a pedestal above of the poor and "unfortunate". The thought of humans being abused and mistreated because they are not of high status makes anger run through her veins. Us slaves are dehumanized and are treated as dogs for the snobby fat slaves are even branded to indicate whose property they are. Because they are rich, they do not have to work to death every day to please people with superficial needs and wants. They can get away with murder of the slaves because we are considered dirty bugs that have unfortunately tainted the world. Aren't we all equal? Some minds are just too corrupt to understand the suffering that this world has brought on. Anger and frustration consumed her mind whenever she thought about how even after 70 years, none of the slaves have tried to rebel. Maybe sometimes there were thoughts of rebellion but they were never carried through as many are afraid of the consequences the rebellion can result in if it failed. Her parents tried to escape. The ones who try to run away are called Runners and are killed on sight. It doesn't matter. There is no option of dead of alive.

After a period of time, she started to make an effort to move. She needed to clean up the room before they did room checks or then she would get in more trouble if it was dirty. Her muscles ached as she tried to lift herself up. Pain shot through her arms and she collapsed back onto the ground. Her vision blurred and when her vision started to clear, she glanced around the room. The room was a mess. Even though she did not have many personal belongings, she could see that her thin blanket was ruffled, which was probably from her thrashing in her sleep, her pillow was astray along with her uniform scattered throughout the room floor. The chair for her small desk was knocked over and laying on the ground. Also, on the ground and walls was splattered blood. The sight brought her to a moment of despair and anguish.

_She could hear her friend's moans and whimpers of pain through the thick wooden doors of the study. It was her fault. All her fault. Her friend took the blame and now he was suffering the consequences of her mistake. It should be her in there. Guilt seeped its way into her heart. Then an abrupt scream came from inside the room that could be heard echoing down the hall. After that, all that could be heard was silence and the loud sound of shuffling feet. She knew, that those shuffles of feet weren't her friend's. Her heart clenched and prayed to the heavens that wasn't the inevitable and the silence was due to unconsciousness._

_An hour later, a few slaves were called into the room to clean it up. From the outside, she saw men carrying out a black body bag on a gurney. He felt no remorse. There have been tons of murders by the hands of sadistic sociopaths but they were never charged with anything. She took a glance of the inside of the room. The floor, walls and furniture were drenched in blood. All the blood made her dizzy. Her heart dropped. She knew that he was dead, she just didn't want to admit it. All sorts of emotions ran through her in the moment. Anger, loneliness, anguish, grief, despair, sorrow and mourning. She had no one left. She had just been hanging by a single thread and it just...snapped. Now nothing could fill in the already empty dark void in her heart, nothing left to keep her hoping, praying, holding on to the misery that is her life. All she had left was gone. Death and the cruelty of this world has teared her and her love ones apart. All she was looking for was a chance. A chance to escape this cruel, cruel world._

Whispers traveled through the halls of the mansion. News that the master caught his mistress with an affair escaped from mouths into ears. They all knew what was going to happen. Some poor soul was going to leave the room and never come back. It wasn't going to be just a simple cut of the throat, no, there would be torture, bodily suffering and - "Number 7? The master is requesting for you in his study," informed Adriana, the master's PA.

She froze. Her mind stopped working and she couldn't move. Everything around her was disorientated and her ears rang and blocked off all the sounds around her. A voice woke her up from her distortion. "Well hurry up! You wouldn't want to keep him waiting would you?!" Adriana urged. All around her, she heard a loud whispers coming from the other slaves in the room. They knew what was going to happen to her. Everybody in the whole house would know once they hear the news.

With trembling legs, she started towards the exit and down the hall. She knew these walls very well. She had tried her best to avoid walking down this hall many times. She knew the memories of her friend's death would only be reminded by these walls. They made her feel cold and claustrophobic. Glad that this time one of her haunting attacks would not invade her mind of the guilty death that weighs on her grieving heart, she tried to clear her mind of the shivering thoughts. She slowly walked down the hallway reminiscing of the unpleasant times in this house that she has spent seven out of her 17 years of life in being abused and tortured.

_She was scrubbing the floor of the kitchen. The floor was dirty with split food and spices. The shoes of the kitchen chefs were stained with dirt from the outside. The kitchen was loud with chitter chatter, the clatter of pots and pans, loud shuffling of feet and the occasional shouts from one end of the room to the other. She was kneeling on the ground, focusing on the task at hand but a voice broke her focus. "Workin' really hard there eh? Haven't seen you here before, you one of those fancy workers?" asked a kitchen slave with curiosity in his voice. She whipped her head around and gave him a cold glare. The owner of the voice was a boy who was probably her age. He had golden locks that seemed to light up the whole room. His eyes were also a bright golden colour with amusement shining through. Something you don't see often. He was very handsome and could pass off as a rich pretty boy but the dirt and grime covering his face and dirty rags gave away the fact that he was a slave. He was nearly about 6 feet tall and muscles that her visible through his clothes. After giving him a hard cold stare she turn her head back and tried to focus on her scrubbing. She heard a quiet chuckle behind her. He was mocking her! "Hey, I'm sorry. Can we start again? I'm Number 13," said the boy and held out his hand. She hesitated but decided against it and stood up brushing the dust of her apron._

_"Hi. I'm Number 7 and apology accepted," she replied and shook his hand with half a smile._

She smiled at one of her pleasant memories. She used to think of what could have been if this was not what the world had been turned into. Skies thick with pollution and deadly epidemics floating around destroying the world's population. If only she was born 80 years ago. She could have lived with her mom and dad in a house. Her parents would go to work in the day and have a family dinner in the evening together. She would go to school with all the other kids and be happy. But, she knows that it was just a silly wish. No matter how many times she laid awake at night hoping to close her eyes and wake up to have it all be a nightmare, nothing would have changed and she would wake up in rags with disappointment. She knew she wasn't the only one. All the other slaves felt the same way. Stuck in a world with no escape no matter how many times you pound on the wall hoping they would break or someone out there would come save you. For her, all hope was lost and there was no point of going on. She could just imagine falling into a pit of endless darkness that that relieved the pain buried deep inside her soul. There was no point in holding on when there was nothing left to hold on to. She's lost everything that meant life to her. Was she being punished? Did one of her past lives committed a sin? Did god decide to punish her and the whole world?

With a pounding heart, she took a deep breath and closed her hand around the cool metallic knob. In a twisting motion, she open the door to the study. With a heavy resounding click, the wooden door closed sealing her fate and acceptance of death.

* * *

"Some of us were just born to suffer and die foolishly dreaming of unattainable happiness."


End file.
